


The Lycan Vessel

by DevilsDontFlyButJustYouWatchMeTry (KissMyAssButt67)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alpha!Dean, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Gen, Werewolves, lycan curse, omega!Sam, werewolf!Dean, werewolf!Sam, werewolf!john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-07
Updated: 2015-09-07
Packaged: 2018-04-19 11:37:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,093
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4744892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KissMyAssButt67/pseuds/DevilsDontFlyButJustYouWatchMeTry
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean and Sam are werewolves. Dean is the alpha who doesn't want to hurt his brother, Sammy is the boy who just wants Dean. They're in love, John's still an ass. Dean would never hurt Sammy, and Sammy causes trouble as per usual. Read and enjoy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Lycan Vessel

Sometimes bad things happened to bad people. Dean Winchester knew that, hell the Winchester boys knew it more than most people. He had just assumed the universe had got its fix from the Winchester boys, he had never been so wrong in his life.

If john didn’t come home in the time he specified it was terrifying, but not uncommon. It just meant that Dean had to find a way to make quick cash until John came home. That was okay. He usually handled it pretty well, him and Sam never starved too badly and they had only been kicked out of their make shift homes a few times. Sometimes, when Sam slept and Dean heard the wolves howl he would sit up and think. He would think to that one night John shouldn’t have come home. He should never have come home to them that night. He thought to the first night that he had spilt blood on his own hands and he wondered, he wondered if it was _fate_. Sometimes he got conflicted; he wondered whether it was the worse or the best night of his life. As he sat up, sat up on the dirty floor of their little cave, his little brother snuggled up to his side, as he sniffed the air smelt the reassuring scent of _pack, pups,_ of _love, safety,_ and he was sure he knew. He knew it was the best night of his life. If Fate was real and this was all God’s elaborate plan then maybe the fucker had a point. Winchester’s knew that bad things happened to good people, but Dean knew something most people skipped past. As he stroked behind his brother’s pointed ear and the omega let out a small huff of breath, he knew that sometimes good things lead to bad things and that one awful, horrific thing had led to the best thing Dean could ever ask for. He curled up around his brother, his omega, in the most protective stance he could make in that moment. Some people called it the Lycan Curse, but they had no idea and if Heaven wanted to try and take it from him, than they were going to have to fight until his dying breath. Sam let out a small yawn and Dean sniffed into his messy hair. He wouldn’t lose this one. He wouldn’t.  

* * *

 

It was another boring hot dull summer day. Katie was busy, Amy was out with her friends, and John had said a pack of werewolves was too much for Dean. He picked up his phone, checking his texts, but it was the same generic shit as the last town’s local gals. He reached for the remote, flicking through movie and sci-fi channels, bored out of his mind, when he felt harsh breath against his neck. The hairs on his neck stood up and he tensed. He was sure the doors and windows were all locked, everything was salt lined. He kept his eyes glued on the TV, and then it pounced. The teenage boy lifted his arms and wrapped his fingers around a scrawny waist. He threw it on the sofa next to him, turned his body around and grinned at his baby brother.

“You’re too slow Sammy,” he chuckled.

He towered over his brother, but he could tell that was going to change soon. Sam was growing into his body quickly, he was already complaining about aching bones. No matter how much Dean joked that Sam would be tiny forever until the day he was dubbed the American Leprechaun, Dean could tell that soon Sam would tower over him, maybe even tower over Dad.

“Nah uh, I totally had you scared! You thought I was a monster!” he grinned, excitement and adrenaline in his shining hazel eyes.

“You wish, Dracula couldn’t get one over me,” Dean laughed.

He pulled Sam closer by his feet, placed one hand over his little brother’s stomach and grinned almost threateningly.

“No, no don’t you dare Dean, I was just being funny,” Sam begged but Dean took no heed.

The elder of the two brothers began to tickle his brother and the younger of the two began to giggle. He threw his head back, trying to struggle away from his elder brother. Dean wrapped one of his large hands around Sam’s leg so he could pull him closer, the other hand travelling to Sam’s side to tickle there. Sam kicked at his brother but Dean easily dodged away, continuing his assault on his happily laughing brother. It was rare that he saw Sam laugh like this anymore.

Their short burst of entertainment was interrupted by a deep raspy voice that both boys knew better than most.

“Dean, Dean open the door,” John ordered from the other side of the door.

Sam looked to Dean expectantly, but Dean knew how his father worked. He only sounded like that when…when he wasn’t John.

Dean clamped his hand over Sam’s mouth to stop him from talking. He began to count in his head, checking for crocotta or shape shifter, or some sort of other creature.

“Dean, open the door,” John repeated, his voice getting deeper.

Sam bit down on Dean’s hand and Dean hissed. Sam struggled out of his grip and walked towards the door.  
“Sam, don’t open that door!” Dean ordered; his voice like the snap of a whip in the air.

“Don’t be stupid Dean, its Dad.” Sam said while rolling his eyes, his fingers wrapped around the door knob and turning torturously slow to both the man on the outside and the boy on the inside. Dean ran forward, hand wrapping around Sam’s shoulder. The door was shoved open, Sam flew backwards and Dean was the force between whatever John Winchester was and Sam. Claw’s hit across his face, blood hitting the floor, and a loud growl filled the air.

“Sam, go lock yourself in the bedroom right now!” Dean ordered, his green eyes like fire burning into Sam’s heart as his warm blood dripped down his face.

Sam nodded before running. Dean turned back to his father, pulling a small knife from underneath the bottom of his jeans, tucked into his socks. John’s eyes were a bright yellow like the shining moon in the sky, his teeth like fangs in his mouth, sharp and lethal. His dirty gritty fingers nail had changed into long claws that were poised, ready for the attack, to attack his eldest son.

“What are you doing boy,” his father growled.

Dean straightened his spine, his grip on his silver blade engraving the pattern into his skin.

“What I have to,” Dean snapped back.

“You have to kill me,” his father growled out, his large hands lifting to grip his pounding head.

“You have to kill me or I’m going to kill you Dean,” John warned.

“We can fix this Dad; just…go away for the night. We can make this work,” Dean begged.

The yellow seemed to be getting brighter on his once brown eyes.

“No, kill me or run.”

His eyes kept shifting to the bedroom and Dean’s mind was whirling. That wasn’t John. John would never hurt Sammy, not his Sammy. He threw the knife into John’s shoulder before turning and running. He yanked the door open, slamming it shut and pulled the wardrobe to barricade them in.

“Sam, get me my gun.” Dean snapped.

Sam nodded and dug out for the silver colt filled with silver bullets. He held Dean’s wrist and Dean looked down at him.

“Sam we don’t have time for this, pass me the gun.” Dean snapped at his brother.

“I forgive you,” Sam said, looking into those beautiful green eyes.

“I forgive you,” he repeated as Dean snatched the gun, kicked the wardrobe out of the way and walking through the door.

He lifted the gun and pointed it at his father’s heart. He had to do this. He had to do this. He had to do this.

“You’re just like me, you’re cursed,” John growled out.

Dean shook his head, and he fired. He fired three times just to be sure. He walked over to his father, starring into those dead brown eyes.

“I’m nothing like you,” he growled, kicking at his father’s chest and making him fall down.

“I’d never hurt Sammy.”

* * *

 

Dean and Sam spent a lot of time on the road after that. Dean’s transformation got more painful and violent every month but the man refused to give in to the curse, to let himself become a monster.

They had the rule of Sam never came in, they would find a cabin in the middle of nowhere and Sam would go stay somewhere else for a little while until Dean was human once more. That was the plan, it was a good bloody plan, but Sam never stuck to the plans.

Dean sat in the middle of his cabin, letting himself feel the cracks and reformations of his bones. Ha, and Sam complained about growth spurts! He rested on his hands and knees, when he heard an appreciative whistle. He turned his head and saw his brother. He was older now, taller and more filled out. He was fifteen now, it was hard to believe it had been three years since that night.

“Is this what you do all night? Sit there on your hands and knees,” Sam joked, he walked into the cabin. Dean sniffed the air, and he knew that prickle of scent. He was scared, which well, that wasn’t suspicious in itself he supposed but he was Dean Winchester so it sure as hell made him suspicious.

“Hello Dean,” A gruff voice greeted.

Dean jumped to his feet, baring his sharpening teeth in aggression, but the man laughed it off.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, I’m here to attack you.”

His once green eyes were now a bright yellow, his fangs overlapped his lips, and the claws growing from his nails dug into the ground as he walked towards his brother. Sam’s back was pressed against a wall; the man looked Dean up and down.

“Down boy!” he snapped.

The werewolf sniffed the air and let out a snort at the man’s scent. He was a hunter, and a pathetic one at that, probably new to the game. Sam was shaking as his brother approached but if there was anything the beast and man could agree on it was Sam. Sam came first. He crouched in front of his brother, snarling at the monster who dared to bring his brother here. It was dangerous here. He was dangerous. Sam’s hand stroked down the back of his neck and the werewolf let out a low growl in pleasure.

“Alright, now call off your dog Sam,” the guy said shakily.

Dean’s eyes narrowed at the man, he sat down lower, ready to pounce. He just needed to know Sam would forgive him.

Sam nodded, though Dean didn’t see that.

“I’ll forgive you Dean, I’ll always forgive you.”

The wolf’s eyes snapped open and the beast was in control. He jumped and ripped into the men’s chest, swallowing his screams of pain as well as his heart. Claws scratched at his skin, bumping over hard muscle and old bones. Sam stood with his back to the wall, starring at the new power Dean possessed.

Dean lifted his head once more, blood covering his mouth and sprinkled on his nose like a mask spray painted on. He turned to face his brother once more, grinning with blood decorating his teeth lightly. He ran over to him, those beautiful surreal yellow eyes staring into hazel ones. Sam wasn’t afraid. Sam wasn’t afraid of the monster with yellow eyes and sharp teeth because it was Dean. It was Dean Winchester with a massive heart and a cocky tongue. It was Dean.

He ran his fingers through his brother’s hair and Dean pounced on him, dragging him down so he was below Dean. He nuzzled his blood covered face into the crease of his neck and Sam knew this was where he belonged. He belonged with Dean, werewolf or not. Dean was home. Teeth nicked at his skin and it would’ve been all too easy to let him, to let him bite him and be like Dean but he shoved his brother off of him. He wanted it, god he wanted to be just like Dean. He wanted to run, and to fight, and to hunt and kill like Dean but not like this. Dean had to want it too. Dean had to need it too. Dean did, Sam knew Dean did, but he wanted to hear it first.

Dean and the wolf fought as Sam ran out of the doors, locking them shut. The two voices were like war drums in his head.

 

_Mine, mine, my mate, my pup, mine, keep, possess, mine, mate, mate, mine, mine, mine._

**_Sammy, protect, love, help. Sammy, mine, love, keep safe. Sammy. Sammy._ **

* * *

 

The following day neither Sam nor Dean mentioned what happened. Dean pretended he didn’t nearly bite Sam and Sam pretended he didn’t want it.

“It’s irreversible Dean, you ate a human heart,” Sam told him one night after coming back from a trip to the library.

“I know Sammy,” Dean muttered looking down.

Well, he had gone and fucked it up now hadn’t he? Sam was going to leave him to go live some suburban dream life in another world while Dean stuck to the shadow, like every other monster until some hunter came to take him out.

“I want you to change me too.” Sam told him.

Dean’s head shot up and he began shaking it.

“No, no, no. there is no way in Hell I’m turning you into a monster!” Dean said, his voice rising in panic.

“Why not? You either change me or kill me, cause I ain’t fuckin’ leaving you Dean!”

Dean was shaking his head, but his brother had come over and had gripped it tight, making Dean’s wolf growl in all the right and wrong ways, Dean didn’t even know where he was anymore.

“Come on Dean; let me be part of your pack. It’ll be me and you forever,” Sam begged, those big hazel eyes were in full puppy mode and Dean should still say no. He should’ve told Sam that he was fifteen, he didn’t know what he wanted, and it sure as hell wasn’t being stuck with Dean for the rest of his life, but Dean was a selfish son of a bitch so instead he nodded. He said next month, how symbolic it was that Dean chose the red moon and didn’t even know it.

One month and Sam would be a monster just like him, but Dean couldn’t deny the little itch of excitement of having a pack mate, of having someone else to run with and his wolf agreed whole heartedly.

* * *

 

The transformation was worse for Sam than it had been for Dean. For dean it had all been mental, emotional, he had hardly felt the shift of his bones and the stretch of his skin because he had been too busy being upset that his Dad was dead and he was a monster. Sam felt it. Sam felt it and he made sure Dean bloody knew he felt it.

“It fucking hurts!” Sam growled at his brother.

Dean kissed his forehead, his arms wrapped around his brother’s chest.

“Stop being such a bitch, how we gonna play if you can’t even deal with the first stage,”

That seemed to strike something into Sam because he stopped whining apart from little hisses and growls.

“There’s a beautiful woods out back Sammy, we can go run there all night if you want,” Dean whispered into his ear.

“Like when we were kids?” Sam asked.

“Just like when we were kids, but no jumping off of any roofs this time, yeah?” Dean joked.

“No promises,” Sam huffed.

He let out a howl of pain, his eyes flashed yellow and he turned his head at Dean. Dean looked out the window, the sun was setting. His own eyes flashed yellow and they growled at one another. Sam let out a playful yip, running towards the door and the alpha let out a long joyful howl. He ran and jumped through the window. Sam barked at his brother for being a show off before chasing him out of the door. When the moon fell both boys felt a different sort of shift. Dean let out a snarl, running to his brother, ignoring his own pain to lick at his face. Dean’s eyes fell into a deep dark shade of red while Sam’s fell into pale blue.

Long chocolate brown hair grew out of Sam’s skin while light brown, almost blonde, hairs grew out of Dean’s. They collapsed together into the ground, a pair of true wolves while Heaven looked down disapprovingly. The Winchester’s had fallen to Mother Eve.

When they awoke they awoke human. Dean pulled Sam into a tight hug, muttering sorry a thousand times, before letting him go. Sam pulled him back, it was different now. He could feel it. They were one, even now, they were one. They were pack. Dean was alpha. Dean walked into the distance, into the direction of the cabin, and Sam followed him. They were changed, but Sam was sure it was for the better. He was sure.

* * *

 

Sam and Dean were better after that. Hunting became much easier, being them became easier, they hardly found trouble anymore. There was no trouble they couldn’t fight. It was a nice night for them. Sam was curled up into a ball in his wolf form in front of the fire and Dean was curled around his in his wolf form, licking behind his ear. Sam’s ear flicked every now and then, but both he and Dean were content. They were perfectly content.

Sam could remember a time when they were would snap and growl at each other, where John Winchester’s orders were all either of them knew, and now Sam was sure they were safe, they were happy. They were safe under Dean’s protection and happy within Sam’s laughter.

Dean rested his head on his paw, blowing dog breath at his brother and letting out a huff of amusement when Sam did a cute sneeze.

_Mine. **Sammy.** Protect. **Love.** Keep. **Mine.** Sammy. **Protect.** Love. **Keep.**_

* * *

 

And for the first time since Dean had been cursed the man was sure, he and his wolf were one. 


End file.
